


Left Bank Waltz

by Sangerin



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: femslash_minis, F/F, Femslash, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangerin/pseuds/Sangerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Untroubled afternoons when Dawn Summers was in the vicinity were rare to non-existent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Bank Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [southernbangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/southernbangel/gifts).



Nina had thought they could have a pleasant afternoon at the Musee du Moyan Age, but she should have known by now that simple, pleasant, untroubled afternoons when Dawn Summers was in the vicinity were rare to non-existent.

It had started in the Reliquary Room. It was a square room, dimly lit, with display cases around the four walls and a further set in the middle, containing reliquaries recovered from churches all over France during the destruction of the Revolutionary era. Intellectually, Nina understood how the tradition of reliquaries – beautiful pieces of art work to hold the supposed bones or other bodily parts of saints – had come about. But looking at one in the shape of a foot, and knowing that people had believed that it contained the foot bones of a saint…

'It's a bit skeevey, isn't it?' Dawn had asked, and Nina had grinned.

But then Dawn had leant forward, and pointed at another reliquary, behind the foot, and asked, 'Did you see that?'

Which was where it had all gone wrong.

Three hours, one chase through the streets of St-Michel (in high heels, no less, and Dawn's heels were very high), a confrontation with three perfectly normal-looking people (who were in fact demons) on the banks of the Seine and another chase from there across to the Isle-St-Louis (by which time Nina was just about ready to leave her insane watcher-in-training girlfriend to it), and a confused attempt at an explanation in halting French to a disbelieving gendarme later, they returned to their hotel room near Châtelet.

'How do you walk in those shoes?' Nina asked. 'Or more to the point, how do you run in those shoes?'

'It's a gift,' Dawn shrugged, and grinned, bouncing around the room as though they'd had the relaxing afternoon Nina had planned. 'Wasn't it great, though? Giles is going to be so jealous when I tell him about the genie in the bottle.'

'Spirit in the reliquary,' Nina corrected her.

'Whatever.'

Nina could only shake her head.

'Dawn, are you twenty-one, or twelve? I swear I can't tell.'

Dawn leaned over and kissed Nina. 'Have you got a better idea now?'

Nina smiled. 'Well, I certainly hope the average twelve year old doesn't kiss like that!'

'I can do a lot more than that,' grinned Dawn, swinging her hips as she walked away from Nina.

'So, what do you want to do tonight?' Nina asked.

'Have a shower – if this water will ever heat up – and then go see the lights on the Champs Elysee. And I heard there was a fair tonight in Montmatre. There'll be fairy floss,' she added, as if it were a prospect that would tempt Nina.

Nina sighed. 'You really are a child!' 

'No – I just like pretending that I still am one.'

'Fairy floss,' said Nina. 'We're in the middle of Paris, amidst art and history and architecture and music like you can't imagine, and you want fairy floss.'

Dawn shrugged. 'It's pink,' she said, and all Nina could do in response was laugh.


End file.
